La Vitrine - Spring Backwards, Fall Ahead

By Paris standards, this past Friday night was virtually arctic, but Co. and I gamely donned several layers and headed out to the metro, direction Pigalle, and ascended into the Paris night at the Anvers stop. As we walked toward La Vitrine, our destination for the evening, and approached the square on rue Turgot, we paused for a moment to turn around to have a look at the Sacre Coeur, sitting majestically atop Montmartre all aglow. Once we passed the Auvergne cheese and fish stalls aligning the square, there was the Montparnasse tower off in the distance straight ahead. Paris it is. And my mood was truly upbeat, because after checking out Vitrine's website and catching a glimpse at the following dishes, I was looking forward to a memorable meal.





I really wanted to like La Vitrine. First, there are those snide comments on other review sites about how La Vitrine is doomed from the start, having moved into the old site of the local legend, Spring. Now, I still haven't found out how wonderful and super fantastic Spring is, because the last time I tried to reserve there, which is when they still resided at the rue de la Tour D'Auvergne location, I was told, sorry, we're fully booked until 2015, or something like that. Second, everything was copacetic upon arrival. A nice welcome from the charming hostess, we were seated abutting the counter separating the dining room from the open kitchen.

It's understandable that a wildly successful venue like Spring would bolt from its original location. La Vitrine's owners have done an admirable job of making full use of the limited sq. meters, lining up a grand total of 9 tables along the two walls. The offerings for the evening, barely legible on two mounted slate boards included the following dishes, as listed at the website:




Unfortunatley, La Vitrine ultimately didn't live up to expectations. I went with the marinated tuna, the fish of the day - a rectangular slab of lean white fish, poisson maigre - and the lemon tartelette. Co. opted for the raviole (which unfortunately couldn't touch that of Table D'Eugene, see my last entry), cochon, and creme brulee. The personal touch of Israeli-born-and-bred chef Kobi Villot-Malka, seen preparing the tuna marinee dish below, was plainly visible to the naked eye. After all, as he was preparing the dishes, he was probably as close to me as Co. was at the other side of our small square table.

All that work put into each individual tuna entree resulted in a dish whose taste was surprisingly un-wow (pardon my deconstruction of the English language). My maigre (2nd image below) was delicious, but the accompanying thick turnip circle didn't seem to make any sense - its slightly bitter taste contrary to the almost sweet elegance of the fish. The small cubes of panais - a root vegetable close to the carrot - were pretty much tasteless. What could have been a great dish ended up as a minor disappointment. Co. was less critical of her cochon dish, savoring the topinabour cream. Two big thumbs up for the desserts, however. I now recognize that I am an easy mark when it comes to well-prepared lemon tarts, and the one at La Vitrine was a winner, accompanied by a mound of gentle slices of mango and cassis. Much care also went into the creme brulee with truffes preparation - Co. happens to be a creme brulee fanatic, and this one scored mightedly.






The meal was washed down with a decent bottle of Haute Cotes Beaune, reasonably priced at 27€. The wine menu was relatively short, but well composed. A couple of post-meal cafes, brought to the table in cute little covered tasses, brought the grand total, including a couple 'supplements' to 107€. The menu lacked from inclusion of a cheese course - incomprehensible given the Auvergne cheese stalls a couple blocks away, and I'll say it again - why not bring a couple patisseries along with the coffee, especially when the dessert menu lacks a chocolate option? Little things, big effects. Too bad to see only three other tables occupied during our visit, perhaps more a function of the weather than reputation. I got the impression chef Kobi likes to experiment, so maybe you'll have better luck, but I don't think we'll be returning. La Vitrine is still fairly new and it deserves a look. Nonetheless, as we made our way to Gare du Nord, a light snow was falling, reminding us that we're still a long way from Spring.

LA VITRINE
28, rue de la Tour D'Auvergne
75009 Paris
01 45 23 99 13
website: www.restaurant-lavitrine.com

Easing Into 2012

As per habitude, Co. and I eased into 2012 by venturing out to two of our usual haunts during the first two weekends of the year, Table d'Eugene and L'Agrume, respectively. At a time when a new year heralds all kinds of potential for change, including various resolutions that we typically forget about one week later, when it comes to restaurants, our tendency is to lean toward the tried and true. And that's about all I have to say about these two Paris bistrots that I have previously reviewed extensively at this site - we tried them again and they remain true to our hearts.

LA TABLE D'EUGENE Admittedly, the return trip to Eugene was over a month ago, and I'm afraid I can't provide many details about the various courses that comprised the 38€ menu, accompanied by a 33€ bottle of Saumur (Eolithe). As usual, Co. was transported more by Eugene than I was, but my ravioles in cream entree was sublime (2nd image below). I've had that disgusting looking chocolate dessert you see below - the Blob - before: it starts off as an elegantly perfect, shiny globe, but once the chocolate cream is poured over the glistening black chocolate exterior, the composition implodes. The kid in me really gets off on that sort of thing, but the decrepit hedonistic adult in me loves the taste. The highlights follow:














L'AGRUME One week later it was back to L'Agrume, a venue we try to get to 4 or 5 times during the year, and why not? Chef Franck Marchesi makes sure to change the menu...every single day. So there we were, snug at our favorite front corner table, surrounded by glass in the comfortable, dimly lit room, but in full view of the open kitchen activity. I had my camera in my pocket, but once I snapped a barely readable photo of the evening's five-course 39€ tasting menu, the camera returned to my pocket for the rest of the meal. I must have felt more Parisian than tourist/blogger that evening, especially after progressing through the tasty bottle of Palhas red (34€) and didn't want to wreck the mood by playing photographer. You'll just have to close your eyes and imagine - up to the somewhat disappointing banana dessert, it was business as usual, i.e., excellent, the creamy risotto with smoked eel a standout.



LA TABLE D'EUGENE
18 rue Eugene Sue
75018 Paris
tel: 01 42 55 61 64

L'AGRUME
15, rue des Fosses St-Marcel
Paris 5th
01 43 31 86 48
website: www.restaurantlagrume.fr

“Top of the world, Ma!” - Bests 2011

In fact, before that gas tank explodes in White Heat, James Cagney actually yells, “Made it, Ma. Top of the world!” But let's not nitpick. It's that time again, actually, it's 10 days past that time again, to name my top five restaurants of the year, in this case 2011. Hard to believe, but Paris Restaurants and Beyond is now entering its fourth year, with somewhere around 80 or so restaurants reviewed, so I first have to give myself an award for keeping with it. Congratulations, me. It would be nice to hear from more readers, especially with your own recommendations, but I know, you are shy and I don't want to press you. I'm happy you come to this site and welcome your contributions.

As mentioned in previous PR and B 'best of' installments, I have no claim to suggest that any restaurants named here are in fact the 'best' restaurants, which would be a ridiculous claim to verify anyway - only that my best meals outside my own kitchen were found in the venues listed. 'Best' for me includes originality from the chef, fresh and inventive ingredients, and an overall enjoyable and memorable experience, the latter of which includes conviviality, atmosphere, and service from staff and fellow diners. Without further ado, here are my top five for 2011 (full reviews and addresses by clicking the relevant links in the 'restaurants reviewed to date' list to the right):

1. Le Gaigne - two really terrific dinners at Le Gaigne in 2011. I don't know why we don't hear or read more about this little gem situated between Beaubourg and the Marais, but the menus degustation for the two visits were inventive and completely satisfying. You've read my reviews, now check out another from the One Spoonful at a Time blog. Le Gaigne is tiny, but chef/owner Mickael Gaignon performs some grand magic in his kitchen.

2. La Gazzetta - regular readers of this blog should not be surprised by this choice, as I have been praising the restaurant since 2010.

3. Chateaubriand - I wouldn't go so far as to agree that this is the best restaurant in Paris, as has been claimed, but it's damn good. Multi-dishes pass before you in a blur, creative and hip, but alas, some of those dishes are just too tiny for their own good. And they are good.

4. Septime - This new addition to my 'go to' Paris restaurant list, along with Chatomat, were the most promising restaurants I dined at in 2011. Not great, but enough to suggest that they may soon be. I really enjoyed my dinner, particularly at Septime, last Fall, but it's hard to jump to conclusions after just one visit. I'm really looking forward to the next time.

5. Chatomat - see no. 4 above, and it's true, I did call this one 'great' in my review. In retrospective, let me just amend that by saying 'we'll see.'


Co., my dining cohort, is pretty much in agreement with these choices, although she'd probably nudge Septime or Chatomat from their mutual slots to include La Table D'Eugene, one of her personal favorites.

Best tapas - Aux Deux Amis - chaotic and crazy in the early evening. That herring ended up on the floor, but too much fun to care. And even the simple tapas were fresh and memorable.


Best oyster restaurant - Le Pleine Mer. 'Restaurant' may be stretching it, but there's no denying this is one of the top, if not the top 'o the world, places to eat oysters in Paris, especially if you are seeking authenticity down by the seashore in the heart of Paris.

Best online shopping for Mexican condiments - Dos Mexicanas, hands down. Based in Villepinte (France metropolitan). Sauces, hot peppers, chipotle, you name it. Great selection, reasonable prices, and I've already received orders within one or two days of ordering online.

Best movie about food: El Bulli - Cooking In Progress. This documentary about Ferran Adrià's majestic, but alas now closed, greatest restaurant in the world is mesmerizing from the opening shot of Adrià tasting a flourescent lollipop, to the final close-ups of the 38 dishes served during a typical meal. The film covers the six months the El Bulli team spent in their experimental labs in Barcelona, and follows the evolution of the new menu items for the restaurant's upcoming season in Roses, Spain. At one point during the experimental phase, Adrià tells his chefs, 'Don't worry about the quality of the taste, it must be magical!'

Disappointments of the Year - there were a number of these, although if you're not expecting much (see Millesimes 62, La Cerisaie, and Tintilou), it would be unfair to classify a venue as disappointing. But when Frenchie and JaJa get so many rave reviews (albeit 'rave' is an exaggeration for JaJa), disappointment definitely does apply. People talk about Frenchie like it's the bees-knees, so maybe I hit a bad night, but I was distinctly underwhelmed. And as for Jaja, fuggedaboutit.

Pleine Mer - Oyster Heaven

The allusion to oysters in my last review - L'Aquarelle in the Charente Maritime region- was no accident. By some strange turn of events, I didn't have an opportunity to to sample any oysters in that oyster-rich part of the country during my recent visit, so I brought my oyster - hereafter 'huitre' - craving back to Paris. What better way to bid 'adieu' to 2011 than by ingesting a dozen huitres and a bottle of muscadet?

There are many options for huitres in Paris, needless to say, from the highly touted Le Bistrot du Dome to the higher (Le Bar a Huitres) to lower (La Criee) chains. Co. and I, however, opted for the one that sounded most authentical and unpretentious, and, based on our meal there, hit the nail on the head.

Just the huitres, Jack, just the huitres. Pleine Mer is located an easy six-minute walk from Gare du Nord on the funky little rue Chabrol. Along the route, be sure to step into the immense (and also funky) Marché Saint-Quentin which, easily enough, is found on rue Saint-Quentin. As we approached the petite restaurant, we espied Sylvain Bertheau, propriétaire-ostréiculteur, in front finishing up a smoke in the pouring rain. M. Bertheau is Pleine Mer - shucker, waiter, owner, cashier, etc. - at least for our end-of-year visit. Once through the entrance, you pass a couple of large stainless-steel refrigerators for upcoming take-out orders and crates of freshly-packed oysters stacked on the floor.

We installed ourselves at one of the 8 or so small square tables, and were immediately informed by M. Bertheau that he had no smoked salmon for the evening, but plenty of huitres of the Cancal region of France, numbers 1, 2, and 3. Pleine Mer typically promises varieties of huitres ranging from 1 to 6, the lower numbers denoting larger (and higher priced) options. A 'formule' of a dozen huitres, a dish of tarama, and smoked salmon is possible, but as bears no explanation, only on days when M. Bertheau has smoked salmon on tap. This was not one of those nights, but never fear, we came for huitres, so huitres it was. Not that we had a choice.

Co. and I each selected a dozen no. 2 huitres (16.50€ each), which arrived on a bed of algae and plenty of fresh sea water in the shells, three slices of lemon, a basket of brown sliced bread and butter, and a bottle of muscadet (13€). M. Bertheau also offered us gratis a little dish of tarama cabillaud to smear on the bread. Now I ask you, what could be better on a chilly, rainy, end-of-the-year night in Paris? For dessert, we finished up with the one option available, a large slab of the buttery/sugary Breton cake, Kouign-Amann (3.50€ per slice), with its crusty, slightly burned top. This is a deadly guilty pleasure guaranteed to add a few notches to your cholesterol level.




With Pleine Mer, simplicity, authenticity, a lack of pretention, a convivial host, and some of the tastiest huitres you can imagine tell the story, all at the humble price of 54€ for two (including wine). What else is there to say? If you are in Paris and you crave a little huitres house by the sea, without actually being at the sea, you couldn't do better, in my humble opinion.

PLEINE MER

22, rue de Chabrol
Paris (75010)
TÉL : +33 1 53 34 64 47

Notes: On tap to start off the new year is a return visit to Table d'Eugene. I also promise to work up the energy to compile a 2011 recap, as soon as I chase my new year's hangover.

L'Aquarelle - A Pearl in the Oyster

If you are headed down to the Charente Maritime region of France (La Rochelle, Rochefort, Royan, St. Palais-sur-Mer, Santes et al.), there are probably two things on your mind: oysters and wine. Once you get beyond the seafood, however, this is pretty much a gastronomical wasteland. One glaring exception is the Michelin-starred L'Aquarelle, a pearl in the tiny village of Breuillet, a hop, skip, and jump outside of St. Palais-sur-Mer, home of the alleged best zoo in France.

Co. and I happened to be in these familiar stomping grounds for a pre-holidays visit, just in time for the latest sou'wester tempest to hit. With 120km/hr winds and torrential rain lasting the night before, we were just hoping the restaurant would still be standing for our Friday evening reservation. Sure enough, there it was, all aglow in the quiet, quiet still-rain soaked streets of Breuillet, not another human, animal, or vegetable in sight. Upon entering the restaurant you get the feeling of being home, a nice refuge from the imposing climatic forces of a late December by the sea.

L'Aquarelle details all are available at their informative website, once you get past that weird condom transforming into a dinner plate introductory motif. Twenty years my junior, chef Xavier Taffart brings his strong credentials to the kitchen and flaunts his creative skills well (be sure to check out the food images there). Tapping into our collective unconscious, Taffart's cooking seems to draw from the Jungian archetype of the circle - yin/yang, anima/animus - which is apparent in several dishes. That he has more up his sleeve than is apparent at first glance was clear when we ordered the 6-dish 55€ menu degustation and found that it consisted almost entirely of items that were not available on the regular menu. (For another 20€ the menu degustation is accompanied by five glasses of pre-selected wines.) When in Rome, or in this case, Bordeaux country, order a local wine. And so we did, and this turned out to be a real gem, a 2009 Villanova rouge. Fruity and midway between light and strong, this wine reminded me of some of the top riojas I have sampled in Spain.



The meal commenced with a three-part amuse bouche: a bettrave mousse, cigarette lardons et creme, and a celery mousse, all outstanding, but the highlight was the beet mousse, which was served in a candied shell resembling an egg (yin). My photo shows what it looks like when you crack the egg before snapping the picture.



The first official dish was a warming combination of a couple tender gnocci in a soup comprised of onion and cheese. There is no photo, which demonstrates what happens when you completely eat the dish before thinking of snapping a photo. Up next was a circle of foie gras pot-au-feu (yang), with herring eggs and haddock mousse. This is what it's all about, really put me in the holiday spirit - or was that the third glass of Villanova?



Dish 3 was comprised of a creative combination of cabillaud 1/2 sel, pulpe de topinambours, mayonnaise vanille, and citron. Yes, the topinambour raises its ever prevalent (in French restaurants) head again, with some flowers and mushrooms thrown in to round out the (this time) square-shaped dish.



The next dish was my personal favorite (Co. would vote for the foie gras hands down) lotte curry (anima), with sweet onion, asparagus and seminole, betraying my predilection for Asian spices.



The obligatory interlude before dessert was next on the agenda, as the fully-stocked chariot of cheeses was brought to our table. I savored a few choice morsels, the slab of comte, strong and essential.



Next, we were informed by our attentive yet not quite ready for prime-time waiter (youth!) that our next dish was not dessert, but pre-dessert, which was a way to tell us that there were, in fact, two desserts. The pre-dessert was less ordinary than it may have appeared - mango creme sandwiched between a wave of sugared potato (quick: potato. Fruit or vegetable?), its delicate curves reminding me of the turbulent waves of the sea a couple kilometers to the west. This was damn good.



Not to be outdone, however, was the actual dessert, or dessert no. 2 for those of you who are counting - a trio of edible, miniature geodesic domes (animus): a candied shell encapsulating jasmine creme, with a couple faux cherries to boot, the latter composed of crushed apple. Visions of Futuroscope, the science theme park 60 or so kilometers to the north, entered my mind.



Along with the post-meal cafe came a cart jam-packed with any child's fantasy of stocking stuffers - candies, cakes, macaroons. At this point, no sense overdoing it, but what harm can a couple of little cakes on the house create?



So, overall, I am more than satisfied that the tempest did not blow away L'Aquarelle before my scheduled visit. The price/quality ratio is a deal closer: a six-course meal, a bottle of wine, coffee, and some extras thrown in came to a mere 138.50€. It's hard to find fault with anything food related, but if there is a nit to pick it would have to be the piped in music that further confirms Frank Zappa's famous quote that people wouldn't know good music if it bit them on the ass. Muted, but not quite enough, just go with the subdued baroque under these circumstances. And that white concept spoon - I go one way, it goes the other - really needs to be rendered to the trashbin. But these are minor quibbles. L'Aquarelle is truly deserving of its Michelin star. It's not around the corner, but add this venue to your reasons to venture southwest of Paris, even during the off-season.

L'AQUARELLE
22, rte Cande
17920 Breuillet
tel. 05.46.22.11.38
website: http://www.laquarelle.net/accueil.html

Notes:

1. According to Aurelie Taffart, our proprieter-hostess, the restaurant's current location is a rental and the couple is in the process of building a permanent home for L'Aquarelle, which will remain in Breuillet, so it shouldn't be too hard to find.

2. Thanks to LB, whose Google search was better than mine, and who recommended L'Aquarelle as a can't miss option.

3. With one of our mainstays by the sea in Royan - Le Petit Bouchon - closed for the season, Co. and I gambled on La Jabotière, which sits next door to the casino - and lost. Nice waitstaff, a view of the sea, and they really seem to try, but the food just wasn't up to snuff.

Chatomat - Dumb Name, Great Restaurant

If you have to ask "Who knows what a Chatomat is?!" as Le Fooding Guide recently did while naming said restaurant the "Meilleure Table" of 2011, chances are you've got a dumb name on your hands - almost as dumb (or presumptuous) as claiming to know what is the 'best table' in a city with more than 40,000 restaurants (see 'Paris'). No, it's not a distributor of 'chats' (cats), nor is it a Facebook or Twitter competitor. Paris Update's Grégory Picard suggests the name is 'a punning response to Chateaubriand,' the terrific Parisian restaurant that I have often lauded at this site. If so, I don't get the pun, but who cares anyway? I can't put it any more succinctly than Le Fooding, that 'one thing's for sure, it's a damn good restaurant.'

A short walk from the Menilmontant metro stop and just around the corner from the little bistrot La Boulangerie, which I wrote about a couple months ago, on a street that is oh so typically Paris - how did the Woodman miss it as a locale for Midnight in Paris? - Chatomat is a diminutive spot that seats no more than 24. Tiny, in the sense that you'll have difficulty discerning the ongoing conversation at your table from the one next to you - speaking of oh so Paris - but comfortable enough not to let that detract from the understated, joyful dishes brought to your table. Co. and I arrived at 8 p.m. on the dot and had our choice of tables, selecting one in the back against the wall that allowed Co. to keep tabs on the efficient goings-on in the kitchen, helmed by Alice Di Cagno and Victor Gaillard, a multicultural coupling that brings a fusion of flavors to the meal.

If you are a regular reader, you know how I am a sucker for the little things - a finely appointed 'amuse bouche' offered before placing one's order goes a long way to endearing me as a loyal patron. Well, Chatomat has this one down pat, with a pair of succulent oysters and toast appearing before us, a fine omen of things to come.



The well-balanced (whites and reds) and fairly-priced wine list made for a difficult choice, but I was satisfied with our Saint Nicolas de Bourgueil, Domaine Du Mortier (32€). The food carte is sparse, with 3 options for each course, and no 'menu' offered. A no-brainer for Co., as she went with the pan-fried foie gras, which turned out to be very special indeed (12€). I glommed onto the salmon dish: saumon fumé mi-cuit/velouté de fèvettes/clémentine (10€). This dish worked well without setting off fireworks, yet with each component nicely complementing the other. I wasn't so bleary-eyed from the wine yet as the photo suggests - does anyone want to buy a nice ASUS smartphone with a lousy camera?



For the main course, Co. went with the bar (sea bass) with round rice and leeks(18€) and I opted for the volaille fermier (20€)- both turned out to be delicate and creative surprises, the fish enhanced in part by jus de betterave, and the chicken structured in two facons with creamy semoule. Forget my smartphone, here are some more accomplished images of Chatomat offerings from Google images:











We split a dish of two slabs of tart and excellent Comté cheese served with quince confeture and raisin toast (10€), and thankfully, there was still some Bourgueil left to wash it down. The desserts did not disappoint - a pain perdu (8€)and a mousse chocolat (6€). As is wont to happen - maybe it's me - my dessert - the mousse - started off slow, but I figured it out by the end and wanted more. What we got, eschewing a post-meal cafe for a change, were two tiny lemon tarts, another freebie that iced it for me.

So there you have it. Two three-course meals, cheese, and wine clocked in at a reasonable 116€. There appears to be good reason a lot of folks are chatting about Chatomat. It doesn't go out of its way to 'wow' you - there is nothing ostentatious about the the food, decor, or service - but that understated approach goes a long way to charm.

CHATOMAT
6 rue Victor Letalle
Paris 20
tel. 01 47 97 25 77
no website

Note: there's a hot little nightspot a couple doors down from Chatomat, Le Feline, perhaps a noise nuisance for Chatomat's owners, but the throng outside simply adds to the ambiance of the setting.